Fake it till ya make it

I have invested in one of those alarm clocks that apparently slowing wake you up, mimicking the morning by bringing half an hours fake sunlight into the room before the alarm pipes up. My rationale is, that this time, 3 months ago, during the summer months, this time in the morning (7.20am) I would have already been out, done a 2 mile run, stretched whilst chilling with a coffee, feeling energised, positive, contemplating the day ahead #havingawordwimesen and getting ready for whatever work shit had ready to throw at me. 

Just recently though, I have been quite the opposite. I just constantly want to sleep, “The bed slug is back” I can hear our old man say!  I have literally zero capacity for any bullshit, and my head, my brain feels like I am permanently hungover, which would be ok, if I had been drinking. People have said “slow down” but to be honest, if I slowed down any more I would fucking stop. So after being concerned for a while, I took the decision to go to the doctors yesterday. Not sure where to start, I was hoping that he would give me some magic beans to take away that would transform this shell back to the dynamo battery I felt I was three months ago, but I know deep down that this is unrealistic and get rid of any expectations before I walk onto the doctors room. 

I try to log into the system a keypad, which tells the receptionist that you have arrived, but it doesn’t work! GREAT, which means I have got to press the magic bell to tell someone behind the screen that I am there. I waited a while before pressing the demon bell, hoping that one of the staff will see me stood there. I hate having to press the bell, it makes me feel like I am being impatient and demanding when I know that they are busy, but it would seem like I was wearing my invisible cloak that day because despite seeing me, looking straight through me, no fucker came. I stand there and look around me, people are sat in the room, giving sympathetic smiles, smiles that are saying to me “I know they are crap aren’t they”.  After what seemed an eternity, I am reduced to hitting the bell, a receptionist arrives, but cannot log me on, because the doctor is already looking at my notes, I’m actually impressed, he’s doing his research before the next hypochondriac walks into the room. 

He was a lovely guy, not one of the regular docs, a trainee, I sigh, assuming that this appointment is going to be like trying to talk to my 1-year-old grandson, but I quickly #haveawordwimesen and remind myself to stop being a judgmental twat”. I am gestured to a seat and the young doctor asks me “what’s up”. I don’t know where to start, but I start by saying, this time a few months ago, I was a different person, full of beans, full of energy, I was focused, positivity came naturally, but over recent weeks I feel like its an effort to even fucking wake up in a morning, I cannot think straight sometimes, my head feels like its full of fog, sometimes I am focused other times I cannot even think straight. There have been times when I have been out walking and had to stop to balance myself because I am having a light-headed moment. I was like this a few months ago, well a little worse, I had to take two weeks off sick, I even had to get a sick note, something I forgot even existed. They said it was likely a viral infection and just required some rest. So I rested, I rested some more, and after two days back at work, I felt back to my usual chirpy, sarcastic self. 

I’m not upset, I’m not angry, nothing bad has happened, basically “I don’t think I’m depressed” I mean I am already on 40 ml of Prozac a day for the dreaded PMT, so I shouldn’t be depressed, should I?

He takes my obs, everything is ok, there’s no temperature, my glands are ok, the blood pressures fine, so he suggests some blood test. Happy with that,  So I’m ok, I am just having a shit patch, which I know will go away soon, I just need to work on my patience, carry on, as usual, look after myself, drink plenty of water, eat well and operate at a slower pace. 

My new alarm this morning is a single bird chirping to its sen, which is ok I suppose. 

Its day one, I was hoping to wake up with a renewed spring in my step, alas whilst I was up and out of me pit a lot sooner than of late, I still feel like death warmed up. But I am sat here coffee in hand, committing to writing, keeping my journal, offloading my shit, taking some time out, for me, because despite how crap I feel, making time for me is more important than ever and I remind myself, that I am still here, breathing, still able to physically function. 

I am sharing this with you, on here, not for sympathy, please don’t ask if I am ok because I promise you I am. I’m sharing this because, its a reminder that life isn’t always fucking sunshine and flowers, sometimes life, your body can knock you off balance and that’s ok, that’s life, its ok to “not be ok”. But if you are in a bad place, or not feeling I always remind myself and say to my self 

‘This too, will pass” 

A proverb from the medieval Levent (Persian, Hebrew, and Turkey) around 1200AD. The proverb means that all material conditions, whether good or bad, are transient. This proverb has the ability to make the happy person sad and the sad person happy because of the realization that both the ‘best and worst of times’ will soon pass.

Right, I’m off to get me sorry ass ready to “Kick some ass” – well go to work, anyway whatever you are doing, look after yourself and your health, we only have one crack at this life, make every fucking second count and even if you feel crap, smile, even if you are faking it, sometimes you have got to “fake it to make it”

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